Instead of a Dog, a Story

Today you get to hear about the latest trials and tribulations that have afflicted Adam and his pet Lummox. Because I feel like it.

I spent the day at an amazing little coffee shop/restaurant/candy store called ‘Peace’s at Bunn Gourmet‘. And then when I knocked off for the day, I headed back to the vee-hickle, let myself in, and then decided to do some work fixing stuff up before I went to bed. Slave, slave, slave, that’s all I ever do these days. So I went out to get my toolboxes, figuring I’d repair a couple of broken cabinet doors and maybe try my hand at fixing a bad wire. And then I realized that my glue wasn’t in my toolbox, but in my parts box, so I went back out and — no, really, these details become important later — and found the glue, and went to go back inside.

And I gave the door handle a pull and it felt harder to open than usual (it’s usually pretty stiff, though) so I pulled harder, and… it snapped. Not off, mind you. It just sits in the open position. All except a tiny sliver of it. Which, as I learned, is both not big enough to provide the leverage necessary to open the door and as sharp as a razor.

Now, one might think, “Well, maybe you could open this up with a pair of pliers.” At least, I did. But one might also think “Wait, didn’t I just bring my toolboxes inside?” I did have wood glue, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be much help. So I went off to the gentleman manning the booth at a nearby gas station to ask if he had any pliers.

He didn’t. So, desperate, I flagged down the only woman at the gas station and asked her if she had any tools with her. And lo, indeed she did! She had screwdrivers and not one but TWO pairs of pliers. And I grabbed the needle-nose and walked back and click! Door open!

I gave her the pliers back, and went inside, then thought, “I should do something nice for her! What do I have? Oh, I know, I have some chocolates!” I then came running out, shouting, “Wait, wait! Don’t go away just yet! I’ll be right back.”

You can guess where this is going, right?

Yeah. I was ‘right back’. To sheepishly admit that I had in fact closed the door after myself when I’d run out of the Lummox to tell her that I would be right back, and now I couldn’t get it open again. So she got out the pliers again, trying to snicker quietly rather than as loudly as I really deserved, and I opened the door, and arranged some chocolates in a box for her, and this time when I walked out, not only did I leave the door open, but I had TWO pairs of my own pliers in my pocket, just in case.

Ugh. And now I have to figure out how to fix a goddamn door handle on a 30-year-old bus. What it really needs is welding, but I’d rather not wait the several months it would take for me to learn how to weld.